


The Course of Life, Like Love, Never Did Run Smooth (Or, Éowyn Reflects)

by insanity_by_proxy



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Choices, F/M, Introspection, Regret, Relationship Problems, but it all turns out ok in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:21:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanity_by_proxy/pseuds/insanity_by_proxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"There are days when Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, hates the King of Gondor for not letting her die on the field of battle where she belonged. For not letting songs be sung in her honor, glorifying her name and deeds."</p>
<p>An introspective piece from Eowyn's point of view about her life since the end of the War of the Ring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Course of Life, Like Love, Never Did Run Smooth (Or, Éowyn Reflects)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings or its characters, nor am I making any sort of profit by writing this. It’s purely for the fun of it.
> 
> Originally posted over at FF.net back in 2010.

The Course of Life, Like Love, Never Did Run Smooth (Or, Éowyn Reflects)

 

There are days when Éowyn, the White Lady of Rohan, hates the King of Gondor for not letting her die on the field of battle where she belonged. For not letting songs be sung in her honor, glorifying her name and deeds.

_Anything_ , but to be stuck here tending the wounds of her husband’s men; foul and rank with rot and their own flesh turned to poison because these men are too thick and afraid of showing weakness to tend to them properly when it is of greatest importance. Only now, when it is almost too late; when they cry out to the gods or as is more often the case, for their mothers, through the delirium of their fever, do they finally think, ‘I should have this wound seen to.’

There are days when Éowyn, the Shield-maiden, hates the Queen of Gondor with the jealousy of a woman rejected in favor of a much older, and much truer, love.

She hates her most of all when Éowyn sees her own husband fresh from battle, and all he can do is fall into their bed and sleep. Appearing not to care that she has missed him terribly as any good wife should, and has prepared for his return; seeing that his men get food and tending. But when she wishes to welcome him home properly, as much to ease the ache inside her own body as to see to his needs, he is filthy and already snoring on top of their sheets.

There are days when Éowyn, the girl, resents the life she foolishly chose those few years ago during the War of the Ring, as it is being called now. A life of healing and tenderness, where is the glory in that?

On those days, she sneaks into the taverns of Emyn Arnen and listens as she used to, to the bards, and rejoices and revels only in the songs of battle, and of death.

But there are also days when Éowyn, the White Lady of Ithilien, knows that she could never love another man better than the one who sits before her now and shows her the ancient text he has been studying, and the new discovery that he has made. For though her husband was the Captain of Gondor, and now the Prince of Ithilien, at his heart he is still the Wizard’s pupil and a scholar… and even in her foulest moods Éowyn can never resist how bright his eyes become, and how his hands tremble with excitement over the smallest details, and it never fails to make Éowyn’s heart swell with love that she should be the first with whom he must share these discoveries in all cases.

And there are days when Éowyn, the healer, cannot sleep for the fear and the grief at the thought of losing the man she loves.

Those are the days when the missions to hunt down the last of Mordor’s spawn, go awry, and the Steward of Gondor is returned to his wife on a stretcher with bandages wrapped around the hole in his chest.

There have never been more agonizing nights than the ones she spends tending the wounds of her own husband. But they are worth it for the sight of his smile when his fever breaks and he finds her fallen asleep by his bedside too exhausted and too stubborn to move to a proper bed for that would mean being away from his side.

And there are also days when Éowyn, the woman, knows that she is luckier than any other in existence; for she is the wife of Faramir, the Steward of Gondor, the Prince of Ithilien, the man.

And on the days where he is fresh from battle, and the first thing he does upon entering their city, is look for her, and upon finding her the sweetest of kisses is bestowed; Éowyn knows that she is loved beyond what she ever imagined love could be. And when he then shows her just how dependent he has become on her to live, and needs something that a man can only find in the embrace of a lover, Éowyn knows that he is hers for as long as she lives. And as they move away from the bawdy chuckles of his men to find a space more private for their reunion, she knows that this may not have been the life she had dreamed of as a girl, but if given the chance to change the path her life had taken… Éowyn knows that despite the days when she questions her choice, she would not choose to take a single step of it differently.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: First of all, thank you for reading I really appreciate it, and if you liked the fic, why not tell me in a quick review? Anything as simple as, “cool!” or “I liked it!” would be loved and cherished as much as something longer. Thirdly, if you didn’t like it, how about telling me? (Although I do ask that you also tell me why, as a personal favor so that I can better my writing in the future).


End file.
